


Nothing Wrong with Us

by DCBrierton



Series: A Dream For Right Now [2]
Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe- Rebecca meets Valencia at camp, Anxiety, F/F, Food Issues, Pre-Relationship, body issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 21:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17108528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DCBrierton/pseuds/DCBrierton
Summary: Valencia's old camp friend Rebecca just moved to West Covina? And she wants to be friends again? It's kind of weird.





	Nothing Wrong with Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [untilitbleeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/untilitbleeds/gifts).



Valencia stares at her phone. The text message doesn't change, obviously, she isn't stupid, it's not like she was expecting it to change. It's just that she was hoping maybe she would get—something. A clearer sense of what it meant. A better idea of how to respond. Something. Right now her mind is—not blank, not the clean clear field you are supposed to get when you meditate (and of course Valencia absolutely does get that clean clear field, it just takes some effort, which is normal). No, her mind is just... not helpful. Ugh. She re-reads the text, figuring this time she'll just—respond. Do whatever comes to her to do. It can't be that hard.

 

> Hey girl! Rebecca Bunch here. 'Member you said if I was ever in SoCal I should give you a buzz? Well... Buzz!  🐝
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway, was thinking we could have whatevs...
> 
>  
> 
> SO WEIRD RIGHT? 
> 
> LOL

 

Valencia sets the phone down gently on the coffee table and gets up to pace. What's wrong with her? Why can't she reply to a simple text from a friend, even granted, it is kind of weird that Rebecca has suddenly shown up in West Covina? Why are girls so hard?

 

"Hey babe?" Josh calls from Valencia’s bedroom. He’s over so much that he practically lives there—Valencia thinks he feels more at home in her apartment than she does. But he still won’t pick up on any of her hints about moving in together.

 

"What?" Valencia notes the frustration leaking into her voice too late to stop it. She takes a breath. "What is it, Joshie?" she repeats, consciously sweetening her tone.

 

"If you're up, could you bring me a glass of water? I think I had too much beer."

 

She's standing in the kitchen anyway. "Sure, honey!" Valencia calls, getting the filtration pitcher out of the fridge, and thinking that maybe she could have Josh answer the text for her. "Be right there!" That's one of the things she likes about Josh, after all, that he doesn't overthink things. And she'd introduced him to Rebecca just tonight, standing in the freezer aisle of West Covina's dingiest grocery store (but with the longest hours). On the way to the bedroom she stops to pick up her phone.

 

\---

 

The next day, Valencia's preparing to lead her "lunch hour" power yoga class when she swears her heart skips a beat. It shouldn't—she's in perfect condition, and she hasn't had caffeine in over a month, not since she left New York. But she's working the desk, helping direct students to the mats and the changing area and punching punch cards, and she glances at the door and sees Rebecca standing there framed in light, and her heart just, well, stops. It starts again right away, of course, and the woman whose card she's punching doesn't notice anything, but still. It's weird. 

 

Valencia tells herself it's just that she wasn't expecting to see Rebecca yet—they agreed to meet for lunch after class, with Josh as a texting-competent intermediary on Valencia's end—and waves at her brightly. "Hey girl! I wasn't expecting you this early!" The words feel strange in her mouth, like it's wrong to address Rebecca with the same tone and type of comment she uses for all her students, women she's never shared late-night secrets with at sleepaway camp and knows only by first name. 

 

Rebecca doesn't seem to notice anything being off. Maybe it's cut by the awkwardness field that she always used to carry with her and doesn't seem to have lost. "Hey V! Yeah, I figured I'd give it the old college try! I don't have a new gym yet since I moved, so it'll be good to get some moves in. Poses? Honestly, yoga isn't really my thing, but I figured, why not?" She stops suddenly, looking around like she's just realized there are other people in the room. "Uh, so is this where I sign in?"

 

Valencia snaps her attention back to the conversation. (It had wandered off to the difference in Rebecca's hair between last night and today—a lot of conditioner, and a blow dryer, it looks like.) "Yeah, sure! Emily can help you out, if you haven't been here before... and I'll see you in class!" Valencia swallows some worry about that. "Lunch hour" isn't really the class she would recommend to a newbie, not one who looks as round and pink and, frankly, sedentary as Rebecca. The regulars are some of her most dedicated—and competitive—students, and while that can be fun, Valencia's had to scrape up more than one beginner who didn't know their limits in the short time since she joined the studio's teaching staff. So far she's just grateful that there hasn't been any puking—Tara, who was teaching the class before she took over, has a couple of truly gory stories that Valencia is hoping never to be able to compete with.

 

Rebecca's performance in class... well, it validates Valencia's worries, okay? By the end of the hour her smoothly styled hair is a frizzy mess, her Harvard T-shirt has a visible ring of sweat around the neck, and her clean fruity smell has been replaced by a definite musk, and not the good kind. At least she doesn't seem to have injured herself attempting headstand (despite Valencia's clear and not especially gentle suggestion that she rest in child's pose instead). Perversely, Valencia prefers this Rebecca to the clean pre-class version—she's more familiar, Valencia guesses. There was never enough time in the showers at camp, and the weather was always that gross humid kind of hot that it never gets in West Covina. 

 

Rebecca hangs back as the other students file out of class, so she's still there, wiping at her sweat with an overworked hand towel, when Valencia has made sure the mats are put away and the space is clean for the next class. "Wow! Um, that was like, amazing!" she says as Valencia approaches.

 

"Yeah, you're really sweating," Valencia replies, picking up a towel herself and dabbing delicately at her own (dry) neck. "I think you really cleared out some toxins. I could see those heavy metals just pouring out of you." Valencia hears the words come out of her mouth and immediately wishes they hadn't. Not that she doesn't say this stuff to her students all the time, but she doesn't think Rebecca is really here to detox. She's here for lunch, right? To be, like, friends? Ugh, Valencia's insecurities are making a buzzing sound in her head. She shouldn't have cut short her meditation this morning.

 

Rebecca says something about auto parts, which is so confusing that it snaps Valencia back into the present moment. Rebecca has a weird expression on her face, kind of a smirk. Is she uncomfortable? God, is Valencia messing this up already? She's so bad at talking to women.

 

"Huh?"  Valencia chirps brightly. That's always safe.

 

"Nothing, it's stupid, I'm stupid." Rebecca's now trying to use the towel to dry her armpits through her shirt, which is somehow both gross and clearly ineffective. "Hey, is there like a shower or something here? So I could clean up better before lunch, I mean, obviously, I'm kind of a mess here."

 

"No, sorry. Most people don't work up that much of a sweat doing yoga." It's true, but Valencia is sorry about the way it makes Rebecca's face fall.

 

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah." There's an awkward moment. "Well, I'll just go... change? Then?" 

 

"Sure, that sounds great!" Valencia heads to the back to change out of her own workout gear. Just because she didn't sweat in it doesn't mean it's appropriate to wear out of the studio, not when she has students all over this town who might notice and comment if she wore the same outfits to class that she does to cute outdoor cafes. 

 

\---

 

An hour later, Valencia and Rebecca are sitting at a patio table at Valencia's favorite organic cafe. The food isn't great, but she feels comfortable there even if her students or former high-school friends/rivals see her, Josh's friends will definitely never show up, and it has boxed water. Plus, she's loving the amount of sun she gets now that she's back in SoCal; she hadn't realized how much she missed it living in New York. She thinks the sun is good for Rebecca too; she still has the pallor of an East Coast office worker. 

 

The only problem is the conversation, or lack thereof. It's covered college, Valencia's desire to open her own studio, and both of their reasons for moving to and then leaving New York. But somehow Valencia still feels like she's spent most of lunch pushing her vegetables around her plate and feeling stupid, and Rebecca has a slightly glazed look in her eyes that Valencia suspects means she's feeling the same way. Albeit without any vegetables, since she's somehow managed to procure a plate of chicken fingers and french fries, which Valencia didn't even realize was possible here. 

 

"Soo, tell me about Joooosh..." Rebecca says, drawing the last word out like a caricature of a gossipy high school friend. Which Valencia guesses she kind of is. "Are you two, like, totally in love?"

 

Valencia laughs nervously. "Yeah, Josh is... Josh is great. We're thinking of moving in together." Well, Valencia's been thinking about it. It’s hard to tell about Josh. He has to have noticed her hints—surely he has to have noticed her hints?—but he’s doing a great job pretending he hasn’t.

 

Rebecca trails her fork through the pool of ketchup on her plate. "Great! That's so cool. I'm so happy you have someone like that." Her voice is higher-pitched than usual. "He's super hot, too. Is he a surfer?" 

 

Valencia's heart sinks. Is Rebecca into Josh? "Yeah, he loves it," she replies, her voice syrupy sweet. "I'm so lucky, having someone as totally devoted to me as Josh is. He doesn't even look at other girls." Valencia knows this isn't true—she isn't stupid—but she wants to warn Rebecca off. Maybe if Rebecca thinks it's true, she won't try anything and Valencia can just. Just pretend everything is fine. Can have a friend, for once. 

 

"I mean, who would, right?" Rebecca laughs, an artificial-sounding laugh that puts Valencia farther on edge. "If they were dating you." She gives Valencia an exaggerated, appreciative once-over. "I wouldn't." Rebecca looks down at her plate and begins stacking her cooled french fries in an elaborate pile. 

 

"What about you? Are you seeing anyone?" Valencia wants to move the conversation on. She tells herself that's all—she's not, for example, looking for hints that Rebecca also realized, after their time at camp, that there was a little more possibility between them than friendship alone. She's not hoping for Rebecca to be single. Why would she be, when she has Josh? Josh is great.

 

"What?" Rebecca looks alarmed. "Am I? No, no, I don't have time—I mean, in New York I was working so much I didn't have time. And I just got here, like, a week ago."

 

"It looked like you knew Greg though, right?" That was super weird, Valencia thinks, the furtive glances she'd been giving him in the grocery store. Like there was something between them. Which, Greg, ewww.

 

"Like I knew Greg? Oh, yeah, yeah. So, funny story." Rebecca puts one of her french fries in her mouth, and Valencia imagines its cold, greasy taste. Kind of gross. She eats a piece of her own broccoli. "So I went to check out that bar, Home Base, and he was bartending, and we just kind of got to talking. He said he knew you, and I thought, cool, that was cool! And then he said he was going to a house party the next night, and he thought you'd be there too, and did I want to go along? So I said, yeah, sure, absolutely! But then you weren't there, and it kind of sucked. The party, I mean, I obviously—" 

 

"So was it, like, a date?" Valencia breaks in. Her heart is pounding. It's weird. She takes a sip of her boxed water to clear her head.

 

"Oh, no. I mean, maybe kinda? We made out, but like..." Rebecca trails off. "I think he thought it was. But I just—I mean, I don't really have any friends here other than you, and you weren't answering my text. I thought, maybe you had a new number, maybe if I ran into you... you know, we could be girlfriends. I mean, like, girl friends. Girls that are friends. Friends that are—"

 

"I get it." Valencia smiles at Rebecca, her real smile. It makes her feel warm inside that Rebecca went on a whole date with Greg just to try to see her, even though technically it's stalking and she knows it should be offputting. "Just, be careful, okay?" Her voice is soft. "Greg can be—I mean, he doesn't really respond to signals of disinterest." Boy, does Valencia know that. "If you don't want to date him, you should be really clear with him. Otherwise, things could get messy. Like, really messy."

 

Rebecca nods. "Got it. And he's like, your friend, right? I don't want to mess things up for you." 

 

Valencia shakes her head. "He's Josh's friend, really. All those guys are."

 

"Not your friend too?" Rebecca's leaning towards Valencia, a look of concern on her face.

 

"Not really." Valencia squirms, a little uncomfortable under the intensity of Rebecca's gaze. "I mean, he's kind of a loser. They all are."

 

"Uh-huh. So can I meet your friends sometime?"

 

"My friends?" Valencia tries to recall whether she's talked about anyone to Rebecca that she might be referring to. The other teachers at the studio? "Uh, which ones?"

 

"I mean, whichever you think I might like? I don't know them."

 

Valencia takes a big bite of broccoli and chews slowly, trying to decide what to say. She remembers the Rebecca she knew at camp—remembers telling her about how hard it had been to make and keep friends since her body changed, remembers Rebecca's sympathetic reaction. Remembers that it didn't turn into sickening pity or make Rebecca pull away the way that Valencia had thought it might. But would things be different now? Surely by now Valencia should be used to it, should have figured out how to have friends again. 

 

Still, there's the same feeling she remembers having, talking to Rebecca at camp, lying on the ground under a canopy of trees and thinking, this is my chance to tell the truth. It's still oddly compelling. "I don't really, I don't exactly have friends." It's out of Valencia's mouth before she really feels like she's decided to say it. "I mean, I just moved back, too. And I've been really busy teaching."

 

Rebecca’s mouth falls open a little, and Valencia can see the partially-chewed food in it. She looks away, and keeps looking away even as she hears Rebecca swallow. She can hear the blood rushing through her head, and her stomach feels sick with panic. She barely hears Rebecca’s response, just the bright, upbeat tone of it, the chirpy cadence Valencia associates with all her customer-service experiences and nothing, ever, good. She can’t handle this. She should have known better than to tell the truth. She should, she should walk it back somehow, she thinks, her mind racing through alternatives.

 

Rebecca’s hand lands on Valencia’s and the sudden contact breaks her train of thought. She dares a look back at Rebecca’s face and sees a surprisingly gentle, tentative smile. Like, maybe not a smile that’s about to make fun of her. “Hey. I just thought, you know, it could be fun,” Rebecca says. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want.” Her face falls a little, like she’s shrinking back into herself, like it’s her who is the embarrassing weirdo here. 

 

“No, I do!” Valencia blurts, despite her better judgement and the fact that she has no idea what she’s agreeing to. She takes her hand back, the better to cut her remaining broccoli into very tiny pieces. “You’re right, it could be fun.” Rebecca’s face lights up a little, and Valencia smiles back at her. “Just text me about it, okay? I plan better in writing.”  

 

Rebecca nods and changes the subject to dessert, and Valencia relaxes a little. Whatever she just agreed to, she’ll have another chance to think through. And she feels unexpectedly, pleasantly, warm inside, though maybe it’s just the heat of digestion. 

 

\---

 

> Hey V! What's up?

 

Valencia sees the text while she's fiddling with her phone after Gentle Yoga class, a bunch of old people and pregnant ladies. Valencia would never admit it, but the old people are her favorite. They don't spend all their time commenting on each other's weight in coded language—or if they do, at least she doesn't understand the code. And there's one couple where Valencia is pretty sure the woman is bringing in her husband just to try to get him out of the house on a regular basis. They kind of remind her of herself and Josh in forty years, and it's not a bad vision of the future to have. 

 

Those old people, she thinks, wouldn't have to stare at a text like this. She's seen people their age texting, and it's all unselfconscious automatic responses, either laden with emojis and abbreviations or written out like a formal letter, salutation and everything. 

 

Valencia, however, just closes the text app and checks Twitter. Rebecca's at the top of her twitter feed exclaiming over the donut place she just found, and Valencia thinks, okay, it's a sign. It's been almost a week since they had lunch, and the first thing she saw after reading Rebecca's text was also a post from Rebecca, clearly the universe wants her to reply. She can do this. 

 

> Not much. Going out tonight. Want to come?

 

Valencia reviews what she's written before sending it. It's not right, she thinks. Not... nice enough? Should she add an emoji? Should she write the whole thing in emoji? Should she text Josh for help? No, that's ridiculous. She can do this on her own.

 

> Not much. Going out tonight. 💃 You should come!

 

She hits send before she can think too much about it, and is rewarded by an immediate response.

 

> Sounds great!!! 😄💃
> 
> What time?
> 
>  

Valencia lets out a breath. Texting about logistics is way easier than regular texting.

 

> 8:30. We can pick you up... address?

 

Valencia smiles. Tonight's trip to Spider's will be so much better if she isn't the only woman in a group of messy drunk guys. And it's always nice to have someone along who will really appreciate the effort she puts into getting dressed up. She's lucky Rebecca moved to West Covina.


End file.
